Saturday’s Gone

Sunlight fades into night.a full moon beaming down onto the broken concrete As Saturday ticks away;silence beckons.Contagiousthe deafening sound of nothingness saturate like a fog. only the monotone drip, drip, drip of the bathroom sink play over and over.The loud voices of drunken birds have yet to permeate above the winding streets.Calmness blankets the soul as the mind rages on silence is alone hereloneliness is grand when all is heard is drip, drip, drip